


France France Revolution

by thepeopletoomustrise



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: FRANCE FRANCE REVOLUTION, Gen, M/M, total crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:26:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeopletoomustrise/pseuds/thepeopletoomustrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras plays the new video game sensation "France France Revolution." </p>
<p>For some reason, he can't seem to get past the barricade level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	France France Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> For a kink meme fill. Modern AU, E/R established relationship. 
> 
> I'm so weird.

“I hate this game!” Enjolras shouted, and he hurled the controller at the closest wall. It bounced once, twice, and scattered dangerously close to the television screen. Grantaire spat out his drink.

 

“Watch it, Apollo! I just bought that flat screen last week!”

 

It was an almost-typical night for Les Amis at Enjolras and Grantaire’s flat – the almost in place because, rather than spending the night debating radical political ideas or analyzing the latest pamphlet ideas, they were huddled around the TV, desperately taking turns with Enjolras’ new video game, _France France Revolution._

Courfeyrac sat on the couch next to Combeferre, who was tirelessly trying to read a research paper on philosophy. Jehan was making drinks of the alcoholic sort, with Joly sitting at the kitchen bar and babbling about some new virus he had learned about in an anatomy class and why they would all most likely get it.

 

Bossuet and Marius sat on the floor next to Grantaire and Enjolras, both of them staring almost as intently at the screen as Enjolras had been.

 

“I can’t beat the damn barricade level!” Enjolras shrieked in defeat, and yanked tired hands through his blonde hair. “Dammit!”

 

“Does he always play it like this?” Combeferre whispered, having glanced up from his article. Grantaire turned to him with an exasperated sigh.

 

“Yes. He hasn’t left house in a week. It’s getting out of hand.”

 

“It got out of hand four days ago when he texted me about the National Guard at three in the morning,” Courfeyrac piped in, chuckling as he watched Enjolras curse at the screen some more.

 

Enjolras, apparently, had not heard them. He was speaking angrily to the television screen. “I shot him first, I swear I did! This is preposterous! This damn game is an epitome of our corrupt government!”

 

Grantaire reached over, setting his bottle down momentarily, and began to pry the controller from his boyfriend’s white knuckles. “I think you need a break, Enjolras.  Give someone else a turn.”

 

“The blood is stirring in my veins, Grantaire! I cannot possibly stop now!” he sounded incredulous and crazed. “The people must rise! Then I could beat the level; I swear I could!”

 

“I know, I know,” he soothed, and he managed to get the controller out of Enjolras’ hand just long enough to hand it over to Marius, who had been waiting eagerly to play the game. Enjolras was shaking in frustrated fury, and Grantaire nudged his bottle of brandy at him, “You should take a drink.”

 

“Why does Marius get to go next? He doesn’t even care about the game!” cried Courfeyrac, shaking his head. “I want a turn.”

 

Marius shrugged passively and hit the start button, “I might as well give it a try. I haven’t anything to lose, now, do I?”

 

The men watched the screen intently—even Joly and Jehan had come in from the kitchen with a few mixed drinks to join the others. Marius sat there, barely moving his fingers on the controller, and they watched in awe as he managed to pass every single level. He made many mistakes – each one made Enjolras curse under his breath – but somehow he managed to barely scrape by. Even the barricade level did not stop him – although he did forget how to ‘jump’ or ‘attack’ numerous times. Regardless of all of this, he passed the level, and the screen flashed with a victorious congratulations.

 

Enjolras fumed, “This is fucking ludicrous! It’s contrived, I tell you!” he looked at Marius with flames in his eyes, “How did you do that?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“You beat the _Barricade_ level!”

 

“Oh,” he shrugged again, “I don’t know. I just did.”

 

Grantaire shoved his drink at Enjolras again, who looked as if he was about to explode, “Enjolras, remember the breathing we talked about. Breathe and drink, breathe and drink.” He shot a glare at Marius, who was obliviously handing the controller over to Joly with a smile.

 

Joly shook his head and waved his hands in denial of the controller, “Oh, no! For heaven’s sake, don’t you all know what video games do to your brain cells? I will not partake in such a dangerous pastime.”

 

Jehan took the controller instead, and he started to play the game, often making comments about the beauty of the graphics or the tragic elegance of the storyline; all until the National Guard took his character down earlier in the game than anyone else who had played it. He frowned, shaking his head tragically, “Oh, my! What an awful pity!”

 

“You tried,” Bossuet offered, and he patted his friend sympathetically on the back.

 

“Would you like a turn?”

 

“Oh, no. With my luck…” and he didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

 

Grantaire was the next one to try, and little did the Amis know that he had beat it more than once when he was alone. To him, it was a very simple game, and for the life of him he could not figure out why Enjolras could not beat it. But, in order to appease his friend, he always purposely lost in the same level Enjolras did. It leveled the playing field, but still left Enjolras feeling content.

 

Grantaire shrugged when he was done, “Looks like I lost again,” and Combeferre laughed softly from behind him.

 

Enjolras yanked the controller from his hand angrily, nearly spitting as he spoke, “Give me that. You don’t even appreciate the game to its full extent! _I_ do, and yet I still cannot win! Blasphemy!”

 

“It’s not so hard, Enjolras,” Marius unwisely piped up from behind him, “You just _win_.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Marius-- if you’re so good, then try it again!” he shoved the controller in his way, his face blooming red. “Surely luck will not be in your favor two times consecutively!”

 

But, once again, Marius made it through all of the levels without doing so much as flinching. Enjolras groaned miserably.  

 

“How the _hell_ did that even work?! You took the least convenient paths through every level, and if I had a piece of gold for every _mistake_ you made, I’d be filthy rich! Marius, you’ve rigged it, haven’t you?!”

 

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Marius insisted, and Enjolras had to put his head in his hands to keep from yelling. Grantaire put a hand on his back.

 

“I could braid your hair, if you’d like,” Jehan’s voice piped up, a gentle offering, but Enjolras shook it away.

 

“He’s just frazzled because he’s finally bad at something,” Grantaire smirked, and he took a gracious swig of his bottle. Enjolras looked up and shot him a glare, “What? You’re bad at video games, dear Apollo; accept your defeat.”

 

“I am _good_ at video games, Grantaire! I can practically complete these levels with my eyes closed! It’s the freaking barricade crap that I just _can’t seem to beat!”_ he grabbed the controller away from Marius with his grabby-desperate hands and insisted repeatedly, “ I just want to hatch the barricades of freedom! Watch! Just watch!”

 

But as Enjolras furiously started to play the first few levels with sheer determination, Grantaire scooted closer to her, snaking a hand along the edge of his pant leg. “I’m watching,” he purred, his mouth close to his boyfriend’s ear. He clucked his tongue.

 

Enjolras felt the foreign hand on his leg and flinched, a red flush blooming slowly on his neck and up to his cheeks. Courfeyrac chuckled from behind them, and the blonde shook his head, “Grantaire.”

 

“What? I’m watching you play the game…” and the slightly-drunk man walked up his boyfriend’s jeans with his fingers, “…so intriguing.”

 

“Grantaire! France before pants!” he hissed, jerking his fingers on the controller.

 

Combeferre rolled his eyes, “Save it for later, you two. Spare us, if you could.”

 

“Don’t listen to Combeferre the cockblock over here. Carry on, please!” Courfeyrac cackled, and he earned a swat on the arm from his friend.

 

“Pervert.”

 

Enjolras’ face was a flushed shade of red, and he tried desperately to continue working on his level, but once again, to no avail. “I’m doing everything _right!”_ he cried, “This makes no sense! This is a stupid, stupid game! I’ve given _all_ that I can possibly give so that the banner may advance!”

 

Marius was eating popcorn noisily, “Maybe you just won’t beat it.”

 

“Oh, _fuck you_!” Enjolras sneered at his friend, “For you, this is simply a game for a rich young boy to play, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, yes… this is a game after all.”

 

“I _must_ beat it! Patria calls for it; do you not understand?” Courfeyrac stifled a laugh when Enjolras said this, and Combeferre nudged him. Enjolras continued, “It just does not add up! The only way to beat it would be to have the people rise, and the people are not _fucking_ rising! What more can I do?”

 

“The People didn’t rise for me, and I still managed to win,” said Marius.

 

Combeferre hit him on the back of the head, “Will you shut up already?”

 

Enjolras picked up the controller again in an angry huff and rolled his eyes. He would beat the freaking level no matter what – especially because Marius would not stop beating it with no effort whatsoever, “I know what I need to do! We need a _sign,_ to rally the people!”

 

Grantaire frowned, “It’s a video game. You can’t rally crap.”

 

Enjolras rolled his eyes and tried again… and again. Hours passed, and soon Combeferre was yawning behind him, and Courfeyrac was doing the thing he did when he was tired where he was murmuring about sex positions. Joly and Bossuet had fallen asleep, tangled in each other’s limbs on the floor in a messy snuggle. Jehan was probably cleaning the kitchen.

 

 Grantaire put his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder with a sigh, but Enjolras shook him off. “Now is not the time. I’m starting a Revolution.”

 

“In a video game.”

 

“A Revolution nonetheless,” Enjolras murmured, fixated on the television in front of him. Grantaire just smiled at him, at the person he loved, and it was this kind of fiery devotion that made him love him even more.

 

Grantaire watched with drooping eyelids as Enjolras once again made it to the Barricade level, but at the last possible second, lost the game like he had before.

 

“ _Fucking Barricade!”_


End file.
